Fire and Water : A Downton Abbey Fanfiction
by Palmviolet
Summary: Robert and Branson are lost at sea, Downton has burnt down, Mary is depressed, lots of people are dead and Cora is in a coma. What do we need? A mysterious benefactor! Rated T for gore, character death, violence and minor language. Set after series 4, so a few spoilers.
1. Prologue

**Hi people. I know I said this last time, but I'm putting my other fanfics on hold for this one, because series 4 is still fresh in my mind and I want to write this while it still is. I am writing this with Diamondosaurus Rex, who may have changed her name (I can't remember). Don't forget to check her out! And also, this contains spoilers for series 4 and 3. Thanks!**

"Mama? Mary? Anna? Carson?" Edith called desperately, searching the flaming wreckage with her terrified gaze. She wasn't on best terms with her sister, but she needed company and help.  
She knew that her mother had been in her room, in bed, so Edith tried to head that way. However it was easier said than done, as her home was unrecognisable in the fire.  
She stumbled down the corridor, tripping over a fallen beam. She'd never realised how long her nightgown was on her- after all, she'd only had to take a few steps in it before. Flames loomed before her and she dived into the nearest bedroom- if it could be called that anymore.  
As luck would have it, it was Mama and Papa's room.  
"Edith!" Mary looked up from where she was crouched over a motionless figure. Blood trickled from a gash in the figure's forehead and her arm was twisted in an awkward position. "Help me," Mary cried desperately, indicating the body, and with a jolt Edith realised who it was.  
"Mama..." She whispered, covering her mouth. Mary nodded slowly, before trying to lift Cora up.  
"Let me help, Milady." Carson entered the room. He was limping, but it didn't seem to bother him as he gently raised Cora into his arms.  
They left the room promptly, and met Anna outside, holding George. She curtseyed.  
"I don't think we need to bother with those pleasantries right now, Anna," she sighed, coughing. Edith covered her mouth with a handkerchief, but the smoke still irritated the back of her throat and made her eyes stream.  
"The front door, Milady." Anna told them breathlessly, wheezing slightly. Mary nodded and led them out, Carson staggering behind on his wounded leg and under the weight of Cora limp in his arms. Thankfully, she'd always had a slight figure, but it was obviously still hard for him.  
Out in the night air, they were able to breath again, and Edith stared in dismay at the burning wreck that used to be her home.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_A day previously: _

_"I'm very sorry, Lord Grantham, but I'm afraid we must go. I don't fit in."_

_Branson awoke with a jolt as the ship lurched to one side..._


	2. Sinking Feeling

**Hi again. The last paragraph was all Diamondosaurus Rex's work. **

A day previously:

"I'm very sorry, Lord Grantham, but I'm afraid we must go. I don't fit in." Tom Branson finished sombrely, glancing at Edith for support. Robert and Cora had been against his going since he first announced it, and Mary didn't seem particularly happy either.  
However it was Violet who stepped in on his account. "If he doesn't want to stay, let him go. You can't keep him here against his own free will." She was stood next to her new best friend, Isobel Crawley.  
"I agree." She said simply, glancing at Violet as she spoke.  
"I can see we can't argue." Robert admitted defeat, the tones of sadness provoking a twinge of regret in Branson's heart. However he was stood firm in his decision to leave, as he hoped that America would provide a fresh start and a new life.  
"We can only wish you luck, and that you don't come across my dreadful mother." Branson smiled at the Countess' words.  
At that moment, Carson came in with the tray of letters.  
"Post, Milord." He said, looking rather abashed at how late it was.  
"Good God Carson, it's nearly lunchtime. Why the delay?" Robert demanded, swiping the letters off the tray, and passing the letters round. There was one for Cora, one for Edith, one for Branson and one for Robert. Still muttering, the Earl of Grantham slit his letter open and passed the letter opener to Cora.  
His eyes widened when he read the letter. "Harold bloody Levinson has gotten into trouble again, and needs me to bail him out! I thought it was enough last time, but obviously not." Cora sighed and shook her head, staying silent.  
"I'm afraid I'll be joining you on your ship to America, Tom. Carson, please tell Bates to pack mine and his suitcases." He said, smiling ruefully. Branson grinned in return. At least he and Sybbie wouldn't be alone on the crossing.

The ship was called Elizabeth- a pretty name, for such a huge looming monster of a ship. It was almost as big as the Titanic had been, and that had been incredibly large. Although Branson had originally booked for 2nd class, Robert had insisted on paying for a 1st class room for him, which the ex-chauffeur had tried to decline but had failed miserably. The room itself was large and spacious, with a cot against the wall for Sybbie, and a large bed for Branson.  
He sighed and curled up on the bed, exhausted, and let sleep claim him.

Branson awoke with a jolt as the ship lurched to one side, causing him to roll off the bed. He landed on the hard wooden floor with a thump and groaned as he dragged himself off the floor after hearing a cry from Sybbie. He hurried over to the cot, and cradling her in his arms he rushed out of the room. He ran into the corridor finding Robert and Bates about to burst into his room. Almost slamming into them, he sprinted up onto the deck, with the earl and his valet following closely behind.  
Suddenly a man snatched Sybbie out of Branson's arms and bounded towards the lifeboats.  
"She'll be safer with me!" he called over his shoulder.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_"You heard anything from your boyfriend yet? Met the new woman?"_

_She covered her face with her hands and rushed out of the room, sobbing..._


	3. Custard and Gloves

**Hi. A lot of Mary and Edith conflict in this chapter, plus some motherly love. Enjoy!**

"Molesley!" Carson hissed. "You're not wearing your gloves!" Molesley jumped, glancing guiltily at Carson, and accidentally spilt custard down the front of Violet's dress. Rose giggled quietly, covering her mouth as Violet glared at her.  
"I'm going to London tomorrow evening," she announced.  
"You seem to be spending all your time in London now," Violet replied, still annoyed.  
"Actually, it's quite a nice place to spend time," Edith retorted.  
"You would know," Mary snarled, angry in spite of herself. "You heard anything from your boyfriend yet? Met the new woman?"  
Edith stared at her, mortified. She covered her face with her hands and rushed out of the room, sobbing. Mary felt a twinge of guilt and stared helplessly after her. Cora watched her eldest daughter in disbelief, before excusing herself and following Edith. Mary glanced around at the others, who immediately lowered their gazes to their plates.

"Edith?" Her mother called, knocking on the door.  
"Go away!" Edith cried, her voice muffled by the pillow she had clamped over her head to stifle the tears. Cora opened the door anyway and Edith glanced up, surprised by how worried her mother looked. She'd never paid much attention to Edith. She'd always preferred Mary and Sybil. And when Sybil had died, Cora had held Mary even closer. But Edith had always been neglected. So she was astonished that her mother had interrupted her dinner and come after her.  
"My darling," she said gently, sitting down on the bed next to her and stroking her curls. Edith relaxed, and dried her tears on her handkerchief. They stayed like that for a while, with daughter curled up next to mother, resting her head on her shoulder.  
Presently Cora stood up. "We should get some sleep." She said, yawning. Edith nodded and reached over for the bell pull next to her bed, and Cora left the room.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_Cora's face was filled with terror..._

_She lay unconscious with her head lolling on the pillow..._


	4. Fire is Scary

**Hi guys. Wrote this one whilst watching series 2 on my iPad. So good! Enjoy! :)**

"Mama? You wanted me?" Mary asked, poking her head round the door. Cora nodded, patting the bed beside her. Her daughter entered and sat lightly on the white sheets.  
"You shouldn't be so horrid to your sister. Michael Gregson has disappeared and she's very worried about him." Mary noticed that she took care not to mention how Edith had used Matthew's death against her. However she refrained from mentioning it, as it would probably upset her mother and make Mary herself tear up.  
"Sorry. But she was being insufferable." Mary replied sullenly, sighing. Cora frowned.  
"Still no excuse," She reprimanded, but appeared to let the matter drop. "Goodnight," she said dismissively. Mary felt a twinge of resentment at being dismissed like a naughty schoolgirl but she remained silent and made to leave the room.  
"Wait," Cora ordered, but Mary obeyed, simply for the panic her in voice. An acrid smell filled her nostrils and she began to cough. Smoke.  
Cora's face was filled with terror, and it made Mary scared too, as she'd rarely seen fear in her mother's expression. The sound of crackling flames invaded the smoke-filled air and Mary whipped round in shock, seeing fire creeping into the room from the door. Suddenly a scream came from behind her and Mary spun round again, gasping when she saw her mother.  
A beam had fallen, crushing Cora's arm under its weight. Her head had obviously been hit as well, as she lay unconscious with her head lolling on the pillow.  
"Mama!" Mary gasped, fear churning her stomach.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

___She herself would have written this letter, but she is somewhat unable to..._

___"Mrs O'Brien. Good to see you,"_


	5. Not Wanted in India

**I've added O'Brien back in to the story. Since I've killed off lots of characters, it seemed only fair that I added an old one back in. **

O'Brien picked up her case and looked forlornly at the small house she'd been working at for a few months. A week on the ship to India, and she'd discovered that the post she had originally applied for, and got, had been taken. So another week on the ship back to England and then she took a post as Lady's Maid to a minor noblewoman. And then she got the letter.  
She took it out, reading it again.

_Mrs O'Brien,_

_I'm afraid we need your services again. A tragedy has come to Downton, and although it seems a rather trivial thing to say in light of what has happened, Lady Grantham is lacking a Lady's maid once again. She herself would have written this letter, but she is somewhat unable to._

O'Brien paused at this, feeling incredibly nervous. She wondered what 'unable to' meant.

_If you can, I will meet you at Downton Village station. Thank you,_

_Mrs E Hughes, Head Housekeeper_

She refolded it and placed it in her pocket, before entering the station and showing her ticket to the ticket man. He waved her through and she sighed, almost reluctant to return to her old life. In some ways she had enjoyed the change, as the work required of her was less taxing and the pay was still decent. However she missed her life beforehand- she had missed Cora and some of the servants.  
She boarded the train hesitantly and sat down slowly in 3rd class, squirming uncomfortably on the hard wood seat. She shouldn't expect anything better, she supposed. But a life of going on trips with the Ladies she served in 1st Class was hard to forget.  
The train journey took about half an hour and at Downton Village she got off, searching for Mrs Hughes' face in the crowds. Eventually she found it when the Housekeeper waved.  
"Mrs O'Brien. Good to see you," She greeted, her Scottish accent thick as it always had been.  
O'Brien just grunted and followed Mrs Hughes to the waiting car. A bit posh for a Lady's Maid and a Housekeeper, she thought, but kept her opinions to herself.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_He fought to stay above the surface, coughing and splashing..._

_And then Branson was looking into the face of Lady Rosamund Painswick..._


	6. Fire May Be Scary, But Water is Scarier

**Hey people. This chapter is really short, so sorry. But it was really hard to write- I'm not sure how to characterise Robert the way I want to, without making him like a wimp.**

* * *

"Lord Grantham!" Branson called to him as he stared into the inky waters. "You must jump!"  
Robert shook his head. He was incredibly pale, and was gripping the railing impossibly tightly.  
"Milord, you must." Bates, at Robert's side, urged. Branson shook his head and took a flying leap off the sinking ship, landing with a huge splash in the frigid water. Within seconds he was frozen to the bone and shivering. The darkness below him seemed to drag him downwards, to the bottom of the sea. He fought to stay above the surface, coughing and splashing. He saw Robert pushed off the side by Bates, and marvelled at the man's bravery. He wouldn't have dared do that.  
Robert landed beside him and yelled in fear, clutching Branson's arm for dear life. Then Bates jumped, landing awkwardly and sinking below the surface. The water went still, and Bates didn't surface. After several minutes, Branson felt Robert go limp with shock, and a twinge of sadness rushed through him.  
"He was a good man," he said, coming up after searching the dark waters. "I'm sorry." By then the Elizabeth had completely disappeared under the waves, many passengers along with it.  
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a lifeboat appeared.  
"There!" Someone shouted, and soon there were helping hands guiding them onto the boat and handing them blankets. And then Branson was looking into the face of Lady Rosamund Painswick.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_She was incredibly pale and looked so fragile that a single touch might cause her to break into a thousand pieces..._

_But late at night in the Dower House she would hear Mary crying in her room..._


	7. Ghosts of Downton

**Hi peeps. Again, quite hard to write, this time because nothing much is happening. There's kind of a list of deaths, so if you haven't seen all the episodes, I suggest you skip that bit.**

* * *

Edith watched the motionless face of Cora in terror. It had been three whole days since the fire, and still she hadn't woken up. Her wounded arm was bandaged and treated, but there wasn't really anything they could do to wake her up.  
Cora herself looked terrible. She was incredibly pale and looked so fragile that a single touch might cause her to break into a thousand pieces. Swathed in great white sheets, her slim figure was even thinner than before.  
And, quite unexpectedly, they had discovered that Mary was asthmatic. The smoke from the fire had affected her worse than anyone, and she had spent the whole of the previous day in a quiet room, lying down, trying to breathe. Luckily she was better that day though. But she was taking the latest news particularly badly.  
The ship that Robert and Branson had been on had sunk in the Atlantic. Robert, Branson and Bates were still missing. Edith had never been that close to her father, but she was still devastated. And Mary... Well, as for Mary, Edith didn't know. Outwardly her older sister put on a brave face and had a business-like attitude to things, but late at night in the Dower House she would hear Mary crying in her room.  
Edith looked up as O'Brien came into the room, holding a tray of food.  
"I thought you might want this, Milady." She said sombrely, glancing at Cora. Edith nodded and took the tray, realising how hungry she was. "I'll stay with her, if you like."  
Edith shook her head. "You don't have to. I can stay here." O'Brien pulled up a chair anyway and sat down. Usually Edith would have been annoyed that she didn't ask to sit, but in the wake of recent events she couldn't care less.  
Baxter was dead, Thomas was dead, Ivy was dead and Rose was dead. So much death at Downton. Edith had often wondered if it was haunted or cursed, and perhaps she was right. After the death of the Turkish gentleman, Kemal Pamuk, she'd feared she'd never sleep again. And then when she had finally got over that, Cora had had a miscarriage. And then Downton was turned into a convalescent home, with dying soldiers all over the place. Then William. And after that, the Spanish Flu, when Lavinia died and Cora nearly died. And then Sybil.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_Robert had hypothermia, that much was clear..._

_Rosamund stared at it in shock, speechless..._


	8. Newspaper

**Hi again. The second half of this was written by Diamondosaurus Rex. It's set about the same time as the previous chapter.**

Robert had hypothermia, that much was clear. He couldn't stop shivering and his movements were slow and obviously painful. Rosamund seemed confident that it was mild, however there being no doctor on board, they had to trust her judgement. Branson eyed her critically as she went around the lifeboat, comforting the passengers. She hadn't seemed like the kind of person to do that when he had met her, but she was obviously in her element now. Branson had realised that tragedies can reveal the best in people- he, of all people, should know that.  
He noticed a drenched paper floating in the water. Curious, he picked it up and stared, shocked, at the front page.

**_DOWNTON ABBEY BURNS DOWN IN MYSTERIOUS FIRE: CRAWLEY FAMILY LEFT HOMELESS_**  
_Late last night, Downton Abbey caught fire, leaving many servants and Lady Rose MacClare dead. Lord Grantham was, luckily, away for the duration of the fire however Lady Grantham was injured in the blaze and her condition is not yet known._

The rest was too sodden to read, and Branson dropped it in disbelief. He slowly bent down to pick it up again, and he tapped Rosamund on the shoulder.  
"Look at this," he whispered, glancing over at Robert. It wouldn't do for him to see it. Rosamund stared at it in shock, speechless.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_"Mama's awake!"_

_"Why are you so scared of fire?"_


	9. Awakening

**Hi people. Next chapter is up! Yay!**

"How can they already be rebuilding Downton? We've paid no builders nor architects. I asked you here to discuss insurance claims." Mary was astonished, and it almost made her forget her grief. Almost.  
Murray looked abashed. "An anonymous benefactor paid. I thought you knew, and that was why you wanted to talk to me." He stroked his blond moustache thoughtfully. "She gave no name."  
"She?" Mary was disappointed. She had originally thought, and hoped, that maybe Evelyn Napier paid, but then she remembered what they were rebuilding and it seemed rather far-fetched.  
"The builders started work yesterday."  
"Already?!" Mary exclaimed incredulously. It had been only a week since the fire.  
Suddenly Edith flung open the door. "Mama's awake!" She announced, joy flushing her features. Mary stood up, glancing at Murray.  
"We can continue this later," she stated, leaving no room for arguments. What she dreaded most was telling Cora about the sinking of the Elizabeth, and the disappearance of Robert and Branson. Tears filled her gaze and she hastily wiped them away, knowing she'd have to stay strong, at least for a while.  
She left the Dower House's drawing room and headed up the wide staircase, fingering the old oak banister thoughtfully, procrastinating.  
"Come on!" Edith said, exasperated. Mary rolled her eyes and hurried after her, pausing at the doorframe. She poked her head around the door, and marvelled at how much better her mother looked.  
Her long dark hair was braided as usual, hanging down across her right shoulder. She looked less pale and although she still seemed weak, she held herself proudly.  
She looked up at Mary and the daughter saw happiness dancing in her mother's gaze, and Mary was loathed to break her joy with the saddening news. Instead she decided to start with something trivial.  
"Mama," she greeted, allowing herself a moment of light-heartedness and she felt relief flooding her heart.  
"Mary, what's wrong?" She smiled ruefully. Her mother could always tell what she was feeling.  
"Well, er..." She trailed off, unsure of how to start.  
"She's worried about the estate. We all are." Edith cut in, and Mary blinked at her gratefully. She certainly hadn't expected help from that corner.  
Cora didn't looked convinced, but didn't press it. Edith seemed to take this as her cue to leave, and O'Brien followed her out.  
"Mama?" Mary asked, lightly sitting in the chair recently made vacant by O'Brien. "Why are you so scared of fire?" Cora blinked, and Mary saw a flicker of fear pass in her blue gaze.  
"Well," she began, taking a deep breath.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_"Harold!" She screamed. "Put it out, quickly!"_


	10. Kerosene and Barns

**Hi. This is a flashback of Cora's, whilst she's telling Mary the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

_"Harold! Mama said we weren't to come here!" Cora called, scrambling up the pile of straw. Harold turned, laughed, and dropped down the other side._  
_"Harold!" She said, exasperated, but followed him in jumping down. She watched in awe as her brother poured kerosene in a pattern on the ground, but then realised what he was going to do. "Stop it Harold. Don't you dare light that!" She warned frantically, as he produced a match from a matchbox. He grinned._  
_"Watch me." And he dropped the lit match onto the kerosene. Immediately the pattern lit up, making a huge fiery swirl. Cora was swayed for a second, as she took in the beauty of it. _  
_Suddenly the fire began to lick at the straw and she came to her sense._  
_"Harold!" She screamed. "Put it out! Quickly!" Her voice rose frantically in pitch. Harold then noticed that his artwork was going wrong and he hurriedly tried to stamp the flames out, but they just spread further. _  
_"Cora, come with me." He said urgently, grasping her hand and climbing back up the stack of straw. Cora's hand began to slip in Harold's sweaty palm. She tried desperately to climb after him but every handful of straw that she used to pull herself up came away in her hands. _  
_"Harold!" She screamed again, fear edging her voice. The flames began to lick up the wall of straw and Cora realised she was trapped. She curled up in the corner furthest from the fire and put her head in her hands, hoping that, if she was going to die, it would be quick._  
_A banging on the side of the burning barn jolted her head up. She shot over to the wall, and put her head against it, listening intently. The banging came again and the wall splintered._  
_There were shouts of 'there!' and then someone lifted her up and out of the burning barn, taking care not to touch her burns._

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_"Are you looking for deep-sea clams?!" She mocked..._

_"If this is a joke, which I sincerely hope it is not, it's not funny."_


	11. Drowning for Shells

**Hi guys. I'm really sorry, but I only just watched Sunday's episode! Last of the series... :(**

**So basically, this is before Edith and Rosamund leave for Switzerland. **

"Lady Rosamund," Branson began, glancing at Robert, who wasn't listening. "May I ask you something?"  
Rosamund turned from where she was talking to a passenger in hushed tones. "Yes, what?"  
The ex-chauffeur gulped. "I was wondering... I'm sorry if this seems rude, but why was Lord Grantham so scared back there? I mean, of the water?"  
Rosamund, to Branson's surprise, didn't seem affronted by the personal question. Actually, she seemed quite pleased.  
"It was when we were much younger..."

_"Robert! Can you get me some more shells to draw?" Rosamund called from where she was sat, reading under the shade of a tree. Robert rolled his eyes and crouched down beside the lake, squinting in the glare. "And make them pretty!"_  
_"Fine!" Robert replied in mock annoyance. He started wading, and Rosamund frowned._  
_"Are you looking for deep-sea clams?!" She mocked. Robert sighed._  
_"I'm trying to find a good one. You want a beautiful one, don't you?"_  
_Rosamund sat back against the trunk of the tree and sighed, returning to her book. "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" was the title. She'd always liked a good crime novel. Suddenly there was a loud splash and she looked up._  
_The water where she'd last seen Robert was eerily calm, and he was nowhere to be seen now. She stood up quickly and rushed towards the lake, calling her brother's name._  
_"If this is a joke, which I sincerely hope it is not, it's not funny." She shouted, annoyance in her voice. However it quickly disappeared as Robert still didn't answer. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as time ticked by._  
_And then he surfaced, coughing and spluttering, thrashing in the water. Rosamund rushed down to him and gave him the shawl she had had draped around her shoulders. He shivered violently and she hurried him back to the Abbey, watching anxiously as the doctor checked him over and put him to bed._

"He never told me what happened under the water. I assume it was just horrible." She finished her story. Branson glanced at the deep water, realising that the fear was justifiable if he'd nearly drowned as a child.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_Now she was dead, and Edith supposed that she'd have to give the baby to that farmer after all..._

_Cora looked at it for a moment more, then sank back against the pillows as the news hit home..._


	12. Babies and Headlines

**Hiya! loads of season 4 spoilers in this chapter ;)**

Edith stared out of the window forlornly, resting a hand on her developing baby bump. It was barely noticeable, but it would be soon. Rosamund, the fool, had been on the ship to America. Now she was dead, and Edith supposed that she'd have to give the baby to that farmer after all, as Violet wouldn't want to go to Switzerland for four months, and Edith didn't want to tell her mother yet.  
She looked up as Violet entered the room.  
She remained silent for a while, and then spoke. "You can't keep avoiding it. You need to tell Cora."  
"Not now. She has so much to cope with right now." Edith hated how pathetic she sounded, like she was just procrastinating. But she wasn't.  
Violet shook her head in exasperation. "Have it your way. But it's just going to make her worry more." Edith pursed her lips in indecision.  
"I'll wait until she's up and about again," she decided. Cora was still confined to bed, and she spent most of her time sleeping. Violet huffed but remained silent.

O'Brien watched Anna anxiously, who wasn't coping too well with Bates' death. Previously, when O'Brien had originally worked at Downton, she'd acted coldly towards most members of staff, but she felt that she should be nicer, having been given a second chance.  
"Mary would like a newspaper," Mrs Hughes said, bustling by. O'Brien bit back an angry retort and grabbed a paper from the pile on the kitchen table. She hated the servant's quarters in the Dower House. They were too small and cramped.  
She made her way upstairs and knocked on Cora's door, knowing that was where she would find Mary. There was a weak 'come in', and O'Brien entered.  
Mary was seated in a chair next to Cora's bed, and both were reading. Sunlight filtered in through the large sash window, the pale curtains half-drawn.  
"You wanted a paper, Milady?" O'Brien asked Mary. She nodded and slipped her bookmark between the pages of her book, stretching. The maid passed the paper to Mary, and she flicked through it briefly, stopping at a page in the middle.  
O'Brien saw Cora staring at the front page, and she tried to warn Mary, but it was too late.  
"Mary..." Her mother gasped, and Mary turned to the front page.

**THE ELIZABETH SINKS: THE WORST SINKING SINCE THE TITANIC**

Cora looked at it for a moment more, then sank back against the pillows as the news hit home. O'Brien watched her in shock, and glanced at Mary. She seemed mortified, and no wonder.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_Then suddenly the boat was up in the air, and it flipped over, depositing Branson and the other passengers into the churning sea..._

_Her whole world had shattered in the space of five minutes..._


	13. They Might Actually Die This Time

**Hi. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I was super busy. This chapter switches between POVs a lot, so just be aware of that. Enjoy!**

Branson glanced up at the darkening sky, worry clouding his gaze. Rain threatened to fall, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The sea was getting rougher by the minute, and already one man had fallen overboard and had had to be rescued.  
They'd lost track of time since the Elizabeth had sunk, but Branson reckoned it was about a week and a half. His stomach certainly said so. All they were eating were the various snacks that they'd had in their pockets, and they were running out.  
The lifeboat lurched violently and the ex-chauffeur clutched the side. The waves towered high above him, crashing into the tiny boat with such force he was surprised it didn't smash.  
Then suddenly the boat was up in the air, and it flipped over, depositing Branson and the other passengers into the churning sea. And then nothing.

* * *

Her whole world had shattered in the space of five minutes. Who knew it was so fragile? That it could be broken by a single line of a newspaper?  
She was nothing, nothing. She was just an empty husk, not daring to think in case she broke down. Cold, unfeeling, unloved. Alone in the world, now that Robert was gone.

* * *

Edith couldn't help being annoyed at Mary. More than annoyed, angry. She'd ruined Cora's peace and happiness. They'd have had to tell her eventually, but not like that. She wished there could have been a way to soften the blow of the news, but Mary had seen to it that there hadn't. Now it was as if her mother was in a coma again- she barely spoke and sat doing nothing all the time. She was well enough to come down again now, but she stayed in her room.  
Edith glanced up to her mother's window sadly. The curtains were drawn, ensuring that Cora lived in a state of half-wakefulness in the dark.  
She looked up as Isobel Crawley sat next to her on the bench.  
"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Isobel said, not unkindly.  
Edith nodded. "We're staying here." She replied, stating the obvious.  
Isobel obviously noticed the annoyance in the younger's voice but didn't react. "Of course. How silly of me. I was having tea with your grandmother and I decided to have a breath of fresh air."  
Edith was grateful that she didn't scold her for her tone, as most other people in her family would. They sat awkwardly for a moment or two, before Isobel stood up.  
"I really must be getting back now. It was nice seeing you." Edith nodded in reply, weighed down with thoughts.

**I have decided, from now, to do a summary of the next chapter down here. I will be updating the other chapters before this as well.**

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_"But he's dead, and there's nothing we can do! There's no-one to say 'Everything will look better in the morning' to Mama, is there?"_

_"Sybbie?"_


	14. Sybbie

**Hiya. Next chapter! Woohoo! :)**

Mary stared sadly up the stairs, wishing Cora would come down and join them for dinner. However they all wore uniform black and it would serve as a reminder why.  
She returned her gaze to the lemon meringue, her appetite gone. She pushed her spoon around her plate, returning to a habit she'd only had when her father had been fighting in the Second Boer War. This time there was no question about it though. Robert would not be coming back.  
"I thought we could organise some sort of dinner party. Maybe cheer Cora up." Isobel suggested, breaking the awkward silence with an even more awkward suggestion.  
"Nothing like that will help. Give her time." Edith replied gently.  
"But surely-"  
"He's dead, and there's nothing we can do! There's no-one to say 'everything will be all right in the morning' to Mama, is there?" Mary burst out, choking back sobs. She pushed her chair back violently and ran upstairs, flinging herself onto her bed and crying her heart out. Her father was dead, her mother was as good as dead, her sister was dead, her husband was dead, her aunt was dead, her sister's husband was dead...  
A knock on her door made her hastily wipe away her tears and stand up. She called a quiet 'come in', and the door opened to reveal Violet.  
"Grandmama." She greeted, more of a statement than anything else. She knew she'd probably be scolded for leaving the table so abruptly and rudely.  
"I know it's hard for you. It's hard for all of us." Violet began, and Mary started. She hadn't expected her to admit to having feelings. "And one can feel the strain. But I'd like you to realise that you're not the only person who has lost someone on that ship. We need to be strong, and different people deal with grief in different ways."  
Mary was surprised by this monologue, as Violet didn't usually show such feeling and compassion. However she nodded and Violet left awkwardly. Mary rang the bell beside her bed, surprised for a moment when O'Brien turned up, but then she remembered why Anna wasn't working- she was too grief stricken for Bates.

"O'Brien, I could have done that." Anna called, coming down the stairs. O'Brien looked up.  
"No, you couldn't have. You'd probably burst into tears half way through." She remarked harshly, forgetting for a moment her promise to be nice. Anna looked hurt and the older maid felt a twinge of remorse. Carson entered the cramped hall, frowning.  
"O'Brien," he warned, and she rolled her eyes. Suddenly Anna produced a choked sob and burst into a full flood of tears, collapsing into Carson's unwilling arms.  
He held her awkwardly for a few moments before she stepped back, sniffling.  
"I'm terribly sorry," she sniffed, hurrying away.  
O'Brien met Carson's infuriated gaze. "What did I tell you?"

Edith sighed, settling back into the chair. Isobel had gone home so it was only her and Violet still downstairs. She sipped her drink thoughtfully, aware of Violet's gaze on her.  
"Edith, you must-" She never finished what she was about to say, as the drawing room door opened.  
"Terribly sorry to interrupt," the butler apologised. "But it's urgent." He stepped aside to reveal a young toddler, recognisable to Edith.  
"Sybbie?!"

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_Cora collapsed into a chair as the news sank in, and Mary slumped to the ground in a dead faint._

_"I'm your mysterious benefactor. Hello."_


	15. Relief

**Hi! This is the penultimate chapter! I'll be sad to see the fanfic go, but I have a really good idea for another one.**

"Is there anything else, Milady?" O'Brien asked, slipping in the last hairpin with a flourish.  
Cora shook her head slowly. "No, that will be all." She replied quietly, and O'Brien was worried by how frail she sounded. She seemed to have lost all her spirit with the sinking of the Elizabeth.  
O'Brien curtseyed and left the room, pondering on how they'd managed to get her down to eat. It had taken a lot of persuading from her, Mary and Edith, and even then Cora had been reluctant.

Mary watched her mother coming down the stairs with concern. She took small, frail steps and gripped the banister tightly. She slid into her chair, staring at the tablecloth unseeing.  
Mary glanced at Edith uncertainly. She wasn't sure if it had been entirely the right thing to get Cora to come down, not just selfish.  
Isobel seemed uncomfortable in the presence of Cora, for whatever reason. She shifted noisily and Violet glared at her. Mary found that it was all she could do not to giggle- she had been serious for so long she seemed to have the urge to laugh.  
Dinner passed by awkwardly and before long they all stood up to go into the drawing room.  
Suddenly the door flung open and the butler was, yet again, standing there looking flustered and abashed.  
"I'm very sorry, Milady," he gasped, addressing Violet. "But I thought you'd want to know."  
"Well? What is it?" Violet snapped impatiently.  
"It's Lord Grantham and Lady Rosamund, Milady. They've been found."  
There was a stunned silence before Cora collapsed into a chair and Mary slumped to the ground in a dead faint.

Smelling salts were brought to revive Mary. When Edith met Cora's gaze, they shared a long look of relief and happiness. Edith was glad that they'd persuaded her to come down.  
"Where are they now?" Cora asked, and Edith marvelled at the renewed confidence in her mother's voice.  
"They washed ashore at Swansea. They're still there." The butler replied. Cora nodded thoughtfully, and Edith smiled. This was actually happening. They were actually alive.

"Visitor for you, Milady." The butler called, showing in a petite woman. She had fiery ginger hair and freckles, and she looked like a child.  
"Lady Grantham, Lady Mary." She greeted, curtseying. Mary nodded.  
"And you are...?" She prompted.  
The woman flushed. "Sorry. I'm your mysterious benefactor. Hello. My name is Mabel Lane Fox."  
Mary frowned. "You're the one that Lord Gillingham was engaged to?"  
"Was being the operative word." She grinned. "And I'm paying for the rebuilding of Downton."  
Cora's eyes widened. "I don't mean to be ungrateful, but why?"  
"I know Tony- I mean Lord Gillingham- broke our engagement because he wanted to be with you. I want- well, I'm not really sure." She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.  
"Well, we're glad you did." Cora replied certainly.

**NEXT TIME**

* * *

_"To the Hon. Mabel Lane Fox, without whom we would not be having this party in this house." _

_"My darling..."_


	16. End

**Last chapter. Really short because i find cheerful stuff really hard to write.**

Branson looked uncertainly up at the newly rebuilt Downton Abbey, wondering how they'd receive him. Maybe they'd be pleased, maybe not. Maybe they had wanted him to leave for America, and now he wasn't going.  
Robert had obviously regained all his confidence as he was talking with Rosamund cheerfully, unaware of Branson's anxiety. The ex-chauffeur felt a twinge of annoyance but quickly brushed it away. His ex-employer wasn't to blame for Branson's own bitterness.  
"Here we are, Milord." The driver announced, pulling up on the gravel driveway.  
They got out, and Carson was already there with the new front door wide open.  
"Milord," he greeted, bowing. Robert nodded and stepped inside, Branson and Rosamund close on his heels.  
"Papa!" Mary cried, running up to Robert and hugging him. He seemed a bit taken aback by this display of affection but it was to be expected. Edith came next, uncertainly. She seemed shy in the presence of her father after so many weeks. Violet, naturally, hardly showed any emotion but Branson had known her long enough that he knew she did feel something.

Whilst they were all greeting Rosamund and Branson, Cora hesitantly walked over to Robert.  
"My darling..." He trailed off, unable to find words. They embraced tightly and kissed.

"To the Hon. Mabel Lane Fox, without whom we would not be having this party in this house." Robert toasted, raising his champagne glass. The assembled company followed him and Mabel blushed.  
"If Lady Grantham," she indicated Violet, "hadn't found the original plans for Downton, we'd be having this party in a very different house."  
"Oh?" Cora raised her eyebrows, and Mary grinned. Violet certainly hadn't told them about that.

**FIN**


End file.
